


Over The Years

by Trans_Bebop



Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (Bay Movies), Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types
Genre: Derogatory Language, M/M, Trans Bebop, Trans Male Character, Transphobia, Xenophobia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-13
Updated: 2018-10-06
Packaged: 2019-02-01 15:02:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12707343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trans_Bebop/pseuds/Trans_Bebop
Summary: How Anton Zeck (Bebop) and Owen Rocksteed (Rocksteady) met and how their relationship transforms over the many years





	1. More Than Glass

_ CRASH _

That was what woke Owen up. The sound of glass shattering.

He sat up in bed and looked around. His small room had the few necessities that anyone needed. He reached over to the nightstand by his bed and turn his lamp on. His door was slightly opened and he could hear the sounds of a fight outside. Probably in the living room, the apartment was not that big. Being the curious bugger he was, he hopped out of bed, wrapped his thin blanket over his shoulders and quietly tip toed out his room and down the hallway.

Owen Rocksteed was a small boy, smaller than where he was supposed to be at the age of 8. His face was almost consumed with freckles and green and hazel eyes. He was a little over weight but it was most baby fat that he hadn’t grown out of yet. On top of his head was blonde hair that was starting to turn a bright shade of red, just like his sister and dad.

He passed by his sisters room which door was wide open. Her room was as clean as always, but he couldn't see his sister in there so he guessed she was in the living room where the he heard the shattering.

He had barely made it to  the corner where hallway ended when he heard a loud  _ BANG _ from the room he was entering. He fell backward onto his but and took deep gasping breaths. He could feel himself shaking like a leaf. He whimpered and  could feel the tears welling up in his eye, close to crying but his sister had told him before that that wasn’t very manly of him to do, so he held it in.

He crawled over to the edge of the wall to look into the living room and his eyes turned to the size of dinner plates.On the ground he could see his pa. He was on his side, limp on the wooden floors, he saw something seeping from his father’s face and his head, leaving a red trail. Little Owen couldn’t tell where the red trail ended and his father's hair began. One eye that was visible was wide open, his other eye was hidden buy his long hair.

Then he heard it.

“P-please I haven't done anything! Please please!”

It was his sister. She was right behind his father against the wall, she was crying, sobbing really. Begging for her life, some person stood over her. He was big, blond,  had a small head that didn’t quite match up with his body.  His sister looked down slightly and saw her baby brother. Her eyes widened and she begged, pleaded with the man, voice cracking as tears streaming down her cheeks, face blotchy making her freckles more visible.  

Owen had never seen his sister cry. Never. Not when police harassed them, or when people threatened them or when their mum died. She had become the strongest person in his life, even more so than his pa. But now, she was almost screeching to be spared.

All that Owen heard was laughter that wasn't his sisters and saw the man raise the mass of black metal up to his sister's head. Before the trigger was pulled, his sister looked him in the eyes, her light blue eyes conveyed so much love, that it was the only thing that truly kept him going after what he saw. In half a second he heard that loud bang one last time. The last time he saw the warmth in his sister’s eyes and they were replaced with cold lifelessness. Empty. Gone. He saw a blast of red cover the wall and his sister’s limp body fall forward to the ground with their pa.  It would take only a week for Owen to understand what happened here. That the black mass in the man’s hand was a gun and the red he had seen trailing from his father and spread over the wall was blood. He would finally understand that his family was finally shattered completely. 

He would come to hate the color red.

As he sat there and stared at his family on the ground he heard sirens and faintly from the corner of his eye he saw blue and red lights that got closer. When the police bust the door down, they saw Owen over his sister's body, shaking her, telling her to wake up, that the joke her and pa were playing wasn't funny. He could feel the red liquid staining his pajama bottoms as it  pooled together, but he didn't care. Owen’s breathing started to get hysterical as his sister or dad refused to wake up and tell him “April fools” among anything else.

One of the police officers picked him up but he struggled, not wanting to be taken from his family. He had already lost his mum he couldn't lose his pa and sister too. He never realized he was crying, screaming, struggling in the officer's arms as he watched more people in blue and some in white run into his home. He saw his home grow smaller as the officer put him in the backseat of the cruiser and drive away. His home was swarmed by flashing blue and red, the last thing he saw before the car was turned were the people in white rolling out a table with a lump under a dark cloth.

The last imagine of his family.

* * *

 

In the week that passed, everything went by so quickly. Adults walked in and out of his view, asking him question after question about what he saw. During a moment of silence he saw a newspaper on the table that he took and tried to read. Only a couple of words stuck out to him that he could read thanks to his sister’s teachings.

‘Aiden and Shannon Rocksteed…… dead….Bloody mess…..Purple Dragons....Hun...gun.….Owen Rocksteed left alone.’

There was a picture of his sister and father. Dead. He could see a hole in his father’s head and where his eye should be. His sister had one in the middle of her forehead. They both looked cold, blue lips, sunken in eyes. Seeing them made him realize he was alone. He had no one.

He could feel his blood boiling as he realized his family had left him, his sister had promised him she would never leave. Just like mum.He felt tears run down his face as he ground his teeth. His face turned bright red as angry tears ran down his face.

The sound of screaming and glass shattering drew the attention of social services. They ran back and saw Owen standing on the desk kicking everything off the desk and ripped up newspaper all over the floor. Owen had kicked the lamp on to the floor and just as they walked in he had picked up the framed picture of the service worker and his family and thrown it at the door. Had the door not opened and hit the person who was in the picture in the head.

Owen saw the anger in the man’s eyes. As he looked at his colleague.

“I don't care where he goes, just get him out of here.”

* * *

Antonia sat on the roof when she saw the black car roll up in front of the orphanage and new that there was new meat. She had been hearing from workers that there would be “another mouth to feed” for the past week in the run down Brooklyn house for orphans.

She saw a small kid with a colorful backpack, something that wouldn't last without being stolen in this house. He had bright red hair and she could almost see the freckles that sprinkled his face

She chuckled as she climbed down into the attic to say hello to the new kid. And possibly get her hands on that backpack.


	2. Broken

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If there are any errors of any kind please tell me!

Antonia stood in a line with the rest of the kids that lived in that house in front of the new kid. She was almost the youngest at 7 years old. She had an afro that made her 4’3 feet in height look at about 4’8, adding 5 inches. She was one of two black kids in the home, the other being Xever but he was 14 years old and still had a hard time speaking English from his usual Portuguese. The clothes she wore were ripped in places, the small royal purple vest over her black tank top and maroon cargo shorts with worn out brown sneakers. It was better to wear these than the dresses and skirts she was first given as she grew up.

 

Antonia grew up in the system basically. The head of the home told her that she was almost 1 year old when she was given up by her mother. She had no memories of her mom, no pictures, letters that might have her handwriting or initials, nothing to tell her where she was from or who to search for when she was able to escape the place. All there was in the basket with her was a faxed message, so no handwriting, that told them her name was Antonia Zeck,

She had given up with trying to find her mom, if her mom didn’t want anything to do with her, than she would have nothing to do with her mom. Not worth her time. 

 

Antonia stared at the new kid, he was smaller than her, or at least compared to her afro height he was smaller than her. Freckles all over, bright red hair, green eyes. He looked like something out of a story book. She knew the older kids would fuck him up.

 

“Alright ya brats, listen up,” Ms.Karina called to all the kids that stood in the line. She was a tall woman, almost a giant compared to Antonia. Heavy weighted, strong Brooklyn accent, dark hair in a braid down her back, almost 6’0 exactly. She would be scary if she wasn’t a lazy fuck like they all knew she was.

“We got a new kid joinin’ us. His name is Owen Rocksteed. For tha’ love of all dat is holy, don’t hurt this kid like tha’ last one.”

 

That was a load of shit. She always said that to scare any new kid. She’s been here long enough to know. Antonia saw the strike of fear in, Owen was it? He had a tight grip on his bag and looked over all of them in fear. His eyes stopped on Antonia and he stared for a long time, like he had never seen a black person before. She snarled at him and that got his eyes off of her.

 

“Zeck! You betta stop growling at this boy,” Ms.Karina scolded her, seeing the scowl on her face. Antonia huffed and crossed her arms.

“Don’t get so high and mighty, yous two will be roomin’ with each otha, so you besta get along.”

 

Owen and Antonia stared at each other and the deep frown on her face made Owen worry about his safety with them. The rest of the kids laughed at the sweat rolling down Owen’s face. If he was lucky, Ms.Karina would have mercy on him and move him to someone else because everyone knew that rooming with Antonia was closest to hell as you would get.

* * *

 

Antonia sat on her bed and watched Owen unpack his clothes in the little dresser next to his small sized bed. The room was small,the door faced the end of the two twin sized beds with two night stands next to each bed that was flush against the wall. The wall on Owen’s side had a small window that showed a lot of the neighborhood. There were lamps on each night stand and each dresser held four drawers. Before it was just Antonia, she had this room since day one of her memory. She was almost a founder of this Orphanage, she deserved this room to herself. Every now and then, Ms.Karina would room her with someone but it never lasted long because everyone was scared of the black child, who secretly had a knife under her pillow. But that was just to her knowledge.

 

“So, uh, what’s your name?”

 

Antonia was brought back into reality by the small voice that asked a question.

He sat on the edge of the bed facing her side of the room and stared at her. He didn’t look scared anymore, more curious of being in a new place with new people.

 

Antonia just sighed and laid down on her pillow, looking at the cracks in the celing, shoes still on.

“Name’s Antonia but, if you call me that I’m gonna stab you. Call me Anton or Zeck.”

 

The stabbing comment scared him slightly but, he just chuckled out loud. The laugh surprised Antonia. She had never heard someone laugh at her threats, they usually cried or ran off to tell Karina about previous threat. 

 

“Alright Anton.” Owen laid back on the bed and stared at the ceiling, his backpack laid on his chest. The room was wrapped in a somewhat comfortable silence. They listened to some of the kids outside playing in the street. 

 

Anton hated silence.

 

“So, how you end up here huh?”

Anton broke the silence with the question that had been on her mind since he first showed up. She heard Owen take a sharp inhale and looked over to him. His face was getting red, shaking silently with anger. She saw his eyes begin to shimmering with unshed tears. His hands tight in fists on the arm straps of his backpack. She saw him grinding his teeth together and that made Anton grimace. She opened up a drawer and sifted through searching for something.

* * *

 

Owen was trapped in his head. All he could think about was his Pa and sisters dead bodies. Hun, the thug who killed them. The blank stare from the one visible eye. His sister begging. The last look of love before his sister left with the loud  _ bang _ . It had become a cycle for him, a cycle he couldn’t escape easily.

_ Stare. Begging. Bang.  _

An endless loop. Static was all he could hear. He couldn't even feel the material of his backpack in his hands. Everything was numb. Nonexistent. Not real. Fake. His breathing sped up with each thought. He couldn’t see through the uncried tears in his eyes. 

 

He suddenly felt something cut through the numbness. Something soft slipped over his ears and he could hear….drum roll? It was music. 

 

_ War, huh, yeah _

_ What is it good for _

_ Absolutely nothing _

 

He looked to his right and saw Anton sitting there. A walkman in her hand and he could see the cassette tape rolling. He had begun to sit up but she gently pushed his head back on the pillow and put a finger over her lips, a sign to just listen to the music and relax.

 

_ Oh, war, I despise _

_ 'Cause it means destruction of innocent lives _

_ War means tears to thousands of mothers eyes _

_ When their sons go to fight _

_ And lose their lives _

 

Owen was trapped in the music. Listening to the man’s message of war. He could slowly feel feeling return to his hands and his breathing return to a normal rate. He didn’t know how long he laid there, but he heard more music right then than he did anywhere else. Song after song played, a few really grabbed Owen’s heart and he bobbed his head to the genre of Rock and Roll. Anton had a scattered taste but, it fit Owen just the same. All of the songs that played he loved them all.

After what might’ve been his fifteenth song, Owen slipped the headphones from over his ears. He stared at Anton and she stared back.  They both opened their mouths and then closed them seeing the other about to speak. Anton spoke first.

“Listen, I didn’t mean to cause you into some sort of freak out or nothin’ I was curious that's all. If you don’t wanna think about it or talk about it, just say the word and you won’t hear it outta my mouth.”

Owen sat up next to Anton. He rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed. This had been about the 3 time his freak outs had happened, the other two started differently but ended up the same as this one.  The last two he just had to come out of it alone. It had taken him almost 2 hours to fully recover. Thinking of his family, down to just him. 

“They were killed. I saw with my own eyes. I feel like I owe to you to tell you after this incident.”

 

Anton slowly wrapped an arm around Owen’s shoulder, loose enough to let him get out of the awkward attempt of comforting. 

“Well, an eye for an eye I suppose. My mom gave me up when I was a baby, I've been here since I could remember.”

Owen looked over and saw the blank expression on her face. She looked unbothered by the fact her mom abandoned her.

“Do you...miss her?”

“How can I miss someone I never knew.”

They sat in silence. Owen thought over what she had said. It was more of a statement than a question really but, she was right. He had heard of his grandfather but he never knew him, thus not really missing him.

Owen looked over to the walkman in Anton’s hands. 

“Can you tell me more about those bands? I like their music a lot.”

He saw Anton smile wide as she pressed rewind to start it on the first song and as they waited, Anton told Owen about Edwin Starr, KISS, AC/DC and The Whispers. A few that were her favorite. She told the process of having to wait for the song to play on the radio so she could press record and it copy onto the tape. They listened to the music together, one ear muff to each ear. They sat there, not knowing what the future held.


	3. Don't Worry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Send Requests to beboplovesrocksteady on Tumblr

 

“Get back here you little punk!”

Owen cackled like a hyena as he ran out of the small corner store. He could hear the owner behind him trying to catch him. If he were 8 years old still than yes, he would've caught him on his small prepubescent legs.

6 years had passed and a 14 year old Owen Rocksteed had grown tall like a weed. Not only did he grow in height but he also grew in muscle. All baby fat had grown into biceps and a stronger stomach. Sure he wasn’t about to enter a strong man competition or anything, but he was strong enough to  _ almost  _ carry his best friend.

Owen ran into an alleyway, the store owner still on his heels when he saw the fence that separated the buildings. He jumped and climbed to the other side and turned to watch the fat owner who was out of breath try to climb the fence but fall back on his ass into garbage. Owen snorted and laughed deep from his gut before running off with the objects in his pocket bumping against his hip.

“You damn Paddy! Get back here!”

Owen scowled and before turning running off, he turned to the fat american and flipped him the bird with both hands.

“Why don’t you make me fat ass? I’d love to have a new jacket made from pure cowhide!”

With that Owen turned and hauled ass down the block, bumping into a woman who he quickly apologized to. 

Owen initially wasn’t going to steal from the guy’s store, He had 67 dollars in his pockets to pay but the stupid owner saw his red hair and heard a sliver of his accent and deemed his store didn’t serve “Donkey” and kicked him out. This only enraged him and he had sat outside staring  through the window until he saw a good time to sneak back inside the store while the owner had his back turned to him. He saw the shades on the glasses rack and swiped them in his pocket. He had seen the knife collection in the back behind a glass panel and he had taken a hammer from his hardware section and broke the glass with a loud crash. He quickly snatch the large hunting knife with a nice black handle with a blade that gleamed with the rainbow in the sunlight and the sheath before running towards the owner and sliding under his legs out the door.

If anything he got a good deal out of it. He got the things he needed and still had money. It was a win win for him. While running he pulled the items that he had stolen from his jacket pocket. He had stolen them for a good reason, or at least to him it was a good reason.

Today was Anton’s birthday.

Or really the day Ms.Karina put on his birth certificate. Anton’s mother never gave one to her so Ms.Karina had to go and officially make Anton one. 

When ever He and Anton would go on a snack run, they would always run in this store while the owners wife or eldest son was running the counter and Owen would see Anton trying the shades on to see how cool she looked in them. Then she would go and stare at that one knife that looked like the blade was infused with all the colors known to man and the hard contrasting sheath and handle. She would gawk and stare and sometimes Owen swore he would see her drool. Than he would see her stare at the price and her longing look turned sad. That was when Owen knew what he had to do.

For a full two months Owen worked. He cleaned barber shop floors, walked dogs, cleaned windows. Sometimes he was given a generous 10 dollars for his hard work, and than other times he was given a tip so small he couldn’t even buy a good piece of candy. There wasn’t a lot of places for him to work, many places had a N.I.N.A. sign in their windows and his blood would curdle with rage.

**_No Irish Need Apply._ **

He never knew four little letters could tick him off so bad. But he did it, in two months he was able to make to enough money for the shades that were only 6 dollars and the knife that was 60.

What a waste when all he needed to do really was snatch the shades and shatter the useless piece of glass in front of the knives. 

Oh well, with the money know he could buy Anton a nice birthday dinner. Maybe go to Chinatown?

Owen ran four blocks and took a sharp left into a neighborhood and saw the orphanage at the end of the street. The room that was visible near the attic had the lights on, which meant Anton was in there.

Without abandon, he ran through the front door, slamming the front door behind him. not caring as Karina yelled at him. He ran up the stairs, skipping steps, growing more excited to see Anton’s face as he presented his gifts to him.

He got to the door and turned the handle, ready to showcase his gifts and blow Anton’s mind.

“Anton! Look what I…”

Owen’s excitement tapered out as he stared at Anton.

She stood in front of the full length mirror they had gotten for their room, first aid box on her bed and supplies thrown all over. In her hand she had the bandages and were halfway through wrapping them around her still developing chest. The bandages were tight, making her look flat chested.

_ ‘They looked way too tight. Her ribs must hurt.’  _ Was Owen’s last thought before he felt something hit him over the head and shatter and everything go dark.

* * *

 

Anton was freaking out.

She hadn't - he, damn it - he hadn’t accounted for Owen to show up back in their room so fast. Owen said he had to run an errand for Karina and he had thought nothing of it. Knowing Karina and how she used the kids as errand runners he thought now would be the best time to wrap his chest down so he wouldn’t be forced to deal with the awful feelings his boobs caused him. Even if it was just for 30 minutes.

Now Owen sat up against his bed on the floor, a little bit of blood was visible rolling down his face to his chin. Anton paced the room, now in just a sports bra, ace bandages back into the first aid kit.

_ ‘Fuckfuckfuckfuck, what the hell do I do?’ _

Anton bit his nails short, causing his fingertips to bleed which just provoked him more stress. He had no idea how to explain to Owen what had happened.

_ ‘Oh buddy! Sorry I hit you over the head with a lamp but you discovered my secret that no one else knows about and I kinda freaked out. No hard feelings?’ _

Who was he kidding, the second Owen woke up he was a dead man.

Anton started praying for Jesus, Allah and any other deity he could think about to have mercy on him. He failed to see Owen open his eyes and watch him pace the carpeted floor. As he paced he stared at his feet, too distracted to see Owen stand up, a slight sway of unbalance, before walking over to his anxious ridden best friend and grabbing the hand of which Anton had been biting on, causing to bleed.

“I hate it when you do that and you know that.” 

Was all Owen said before dragging Anton to their bed and taking the first aid kit to fix up what he could of the bleeding fingers.

The room was filled with awkward silence, or at least awkward for Anton. Neither spoke as Owen wiped the blood, put small dabs of disinfectant (producing noises of uncomfort from Anton).

“Soooo…” Anton tried to break the silence but, with little luck. Anton was genuinely frightened  for what Owen might say. He had meant to keep this a secret.

“You know I'm your friend, right?”

Owen finally said something. Anton could feel his heart rate increasing. He nodded his head, not trusting himself to speak.

“Whatever you're going through, I don't care dude, but as your friend i won't willingly let your hurt yourself like that. Your ribs could get super messed up like that dude and-”

“I’m a guy.”

That stopped the talking in the room all together. Owen just tilted his head in confusion.

“I know I got girl bits and all but….I jus feel like a guy you know? Its why I do that I'm jus… im leanin’ aight? I hate what i got and i jus-”

Owen just wrapped his arms around Anton. Owen had always been a hugger, since day one he liked hugging others but no one besides Anton would accept being the recipient of his hugs. Anton wouldn’t admit it but, he loved those hugs, he couldn’t help wrapping his arms around Owen too.

“I don’t understand it bro, but I’m willing to learn because you’re my friend and I care about you.” Owen mumbled into Anton’s neck.  

Anton cried that day. He hasn’t cried since he was smaller but, he couldn’t really stop it. Owen never acknowledged it out loud, he grabbed the walkman and they listened to their music. Anton was half asleep on Owen’s chest when Owen suddenly sat up and reached into the pockets of his jacket he had long dumped on the floor and pulled the presents he had ‘bought’ that day.

Anton smiled, flapping his hands before reaching for the purple shutter shades and the knife.

When wished happy birthday, Anton went blank faced. 

Anton didn’t even remember his own birthday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Send Requests to beboplovesrocksteady on Tumblr


	6. Seperation

**_Seperation_ **

 

“I ain’t saying shit ‘til I get to talk to Anton!”

 

Karina who sat next to the 16 year old Owen gave him a hard smack to the side of his head. Owen didn’t budge and just stared at the officer in front of him, mouth pursed tight and eyebrows furrowed as they had a staredown. The man in blue sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose and stared at the stubborn teen in front of him.

 

“Listen son, we just want to know what happened at the Miller store.”

 

Owen basically growled and slammed both of his fists on the iron table in front of him, face growing redder with his teeth bared like a bear.

 

“I don’t know if you can understand english or if you just got wax in ya ears but, I. Ain’t. Saying. Shit!” He slammed his fist again as he finished his statement. He was prepared to stay here with this cop for as long as it took for them to let him see his best friend. No number of thumps to the head would change his mind.

 

The cop - Cooper? Cahn? Callahan? Who the fuck knows - could see he was ready to stay here and argue and could feel the headache get stronger. 

 

Under his breath Owen could hear a quiet “Fuck it” before shrugging and standing up. “Alright kid, I’ll let you see your little monkey friend, you got ten minutes.”

 

Owen smiled, a wide smile where all teeth were visible but still genuine. Anton didn’t call him a hardhead for nothing. Karina and the cop left the room, Karina because she wouldn’t be able to handle both of them at the same time.

 

A couple minutes of Owen pacing the room, the door opened and he swung around to see something he wasn't expecting.

 

Anton looked….awful. He had a big shiner, his lip was caked in blood and his cheek was swollen. On his arms were more purple bruises than he remembered there being. As Anton walked towards him, he noticed his gait held a heavy limp and he still had handcuffs on his wrists, keeping his arms and hands behind him.

 

Anton was fucked.

 

“Ten minutes you two, than I want you both talking.” Was all the cop whose name eludes him said and left, to stand outside the door probably.

 

Owen strode to his friend and gently touched his cheek which gained him a hiss of pain that made him quickly retract his hand.

 

“What did they do to you dude?”

 

Anton shrugged as best as he could, which wasn’t much. Anton sniffled and his eyes welled up but never fell as he tried his best to get through the pain. Owen used his own torn up shirt to wipe at Anton’s lips, cracking the dried blood off. When he finished he wiped his unshed tears.

 

“What did those fuckin’ pigs do to ya buddy? Whose ass do I have to kick?”

 

Owen paced the room, pulling at his hair imagining what could have happened to his best friend while they were seperated. 

 

_ ‘Pigs, absolute fucking animals!’ _

 

“Owen.”

 

He spun around at the sound of Anton’s voice. She - He, god damn it, get it right - He looked at Owen with his only one good eye and sighed.

 

“Just tell them I did it, don't want you in trouble dude.”

 

“No! No way! Fuck that! We take the blame together, I'm not bout to leave you to rot!”

 

Grabbing Anton by his shoulders, he made dead eye contact with him and before wrapping his arms around Anton’s neck, hugging him tight. He shook with tears that he refused to feel shame for shedding. Anton started to shake with him, both of them a vibrating mess of limbs.

 

Anton just wished he could hug Owen back. Hands handcuffed behind his back, pain shooting up his arms if he even thought about moving them. He had grown addicted to Owen’s hugs as they grew up, finding them a source of comfort, a thing he had never had in a long time.

 

“You’re a fucking idiot.”

 

“I’m you’re fucking idiot.”

 

* * *

  
  


“Antonia Zeck, I sentence you to 20 months of juvenile hall, While Mister Rocksteed will get 100 hours of community service.”

 

Owen could hardly remember past that point. He remembers he had started to yell. And scream and even cry maybe.

 

_ ‘I can’t be alone. Not again.’ _

 

Owen, who still up to this point had not been handcuffed and could freely move his limbs, wrapped his arms around his best friend, who still sat in the chair; hands cuffed behind his back and immobile.

 

Owen’s arms wrapped around Anton’s torso, hugging him close to his chest, nearly squeezing him to death. His protests were loud, echoing throughout the courtroom. His screams sounding like a demon in anguish as police tried to seperate the two from each other. Anton had yet to say anything as Owen held onto his clothes, his face looking down at Owen’s hands that turned an ungodly, paperwhite from clenching his clothing so tightly. Owen was scared out of his mind, Anton knew that and hated the fact. ANton had to calm him or else things would get worse and out of hand.

 

Owen was close to swinging at the cops that tore and pulled at his clothes if he hadn’t felt Anton’s face lay in the crook of his neck.

 

“You gotta let me go Rock. Don’t make this any worse.”

 

“No! No no no no no! I can’t let them take ya! Ya can’t leave me too!”  Owen leaned into Anton’s neck and sobbed, not afraid of crying. Being judged for crying was not even a thought in his mind, all he could think about was the thought of not having Anton with him.

 

“Are you doubtin’ me man? You don’t think I can live through some fucking juvie?”

 

Anton backed away and started Owen in the face. His face graced a large smile that showed no fear. He smiled wide, teeth gleaming and eyes almost ablaze with a challenge.

 

“I got a year and some change, I’ll make it. You’ll get the chance to visit me ev’ryday. I ain’t bouta die in here. I ain’t gonna leave ya. And when I get out, we gonna raise even more hell than ever before. One day at a time Rock.”

 

Neither of them cared that the courtroom was dead silent. They didn’t see the disgusted faces of the police or the judge that watched them converse. Seeing them hug as if were normal angered them but they saw the opportunity then to separate the two, dragging Anton away from Owen who stared blankly. Anton smiled the whole way out.

 

* * *

 

Anton was sent to Queens Detention Facility and would stay there for one year and eight months.  


End file.
